


League of Legends Champion OC Lore/Stories

by kiwi_pies



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi_pies/pseuds/kiwi_pies
Summary: I have a handful of League of Legends Oc/Champion concepts that I have come up with. To go along with them, I have written up some lore/stories for each of them! I decided to upload them here for anyone who may be curious and who would like to read about my characters! These stories have some mentions of canon League champions, but are mostly centered around my OCs.





	1. Niomi, The Pride of Noxus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lore and a little story about Niomi, the Pride of Noxus. Niomi is a yordle who made a big mark when she moved out of Bandle and found herself with a magic talking ax and a place in Noxus.

_** Lore ** _

Niomi was the first born in her small family. The yordle family first resided on the edge of Bandle City, and were almost separated from the busy and active town. They raised their child on their own, keeping to themselves. The young yordle didn’t mind this, and she enjoyed the quiet and space all to herself.  One day her parents had news. They were going to have another child.

Niomi was excited. She enjoyed her time alone, but had always wondered if there were people around that she could play with. Once her sister was born and old enough to play, the pair became the best of friends, frolicking through the woods and the fields, and playing pretend. Eventually the duo became more creative as they grew older, and built make shift weapons.

Things were as good as good can be, the family of four living comfortably. One day however, Niomi’s father moved the family further into Bandle City. The environment was different for Niomi, and she had a bit of trouble adjusting to the new style and flow of life.

Strange yordles everywhere, new people she had never met before, and a new home all shell shocked Niomi. Her sister was a bit more okay with the move, and seemed for the most part to fit in when they went to school.

However with anyone who is new, it is difficult to adjust and make friends. Niomi found herself picked on and teased for her different opinions and feelings about things, and she grew bitter and angry. She grew cold, being hostile towards anyone who even said the most minor of insults.

One day, a much larger yordle picked on Niomi’s little sister whom she was beyond protective. Niomi lashed out at him unlike any time she had before. The yordle sliced at his side with a makeshift knife carved out of stone. She was the only one to get in trouble, and rumors spread across the city, making Niomi feel even more as an outcast. As she grew older and older, she grew angrier that her parents had brought her here, and felt that many yordles were against her.  She knew it was practically her fault, but even so was trying to protect her dear sister, whom she promised she’d do anything for.

Eventually one day tragedy stuck, and Niomi’s sister grew incredibly ill. Niomi feared she would lose the only friend she ever had. She became more emotional and quick to upset, lashing out at neighbors and even strangers that looked at her the wrong way.

She could no longer bear to stay here with her sister ill and being alienated by yordles around her. She eventually left Bandle City one night without warning, planning to never return. She knew she was not wanted there, and if her sister passed, she had no reason to stay.

The yordle traveled for months, living off food she hunted with her weapons that she made and ate fruits she gathered. She trekked across Runeterra, stumbling across a party of Noxian soldiers one day.  She found herself curious, as she had not seen many humans in the past. Keeping her distance, she followed the group, until they reached a strange cavern. Curiosity got the best of her and she slipped inside. She soon had discovered this group was searching for an enchanted ax, told to hold the power to defeat an entire enemy in one swing. Their search had brought them here, and the ax was wedged in a spot they could not reach.

Eventually Niomi revealed herself, offering her assistance. At first the party was uncertain and even laughed at the small yordle. But when they discovered not a single man could slip through the hole, even with his armor off, they reluctantly let the yordle into the gap in the cave. She slipped in, gazing at the massive weapon. As she placed a hand on it, a gemstone flashed red, gazing at her like an eye. She felt an odd surge of power and strength. She also could have sworn she heard a voice, calling out to her specifically. The sensation finally ended, and she carried the axe out, triumphant. She handed it to the man in charge of the party, who attempted to crush the armor of one of his own soldiers. Surprisingly enough, the weapon didn’t even make a dent. The party leader in a rage lashed out, using his own axe to kill that same solider, and yelled that he would kill everyone and Niomi for wasting his time in finding a useless weapon. Niomi in the heat of the moment, grabbed the ax and using its bottom, stabbed right through his armor, into his belly, and through his back. She had never seen so much fear in a man’s face as she twisted the weapon before pulling it back out. He dropped to the ground, the rest of the Noxian’s gasping in awe, and some even thanked her for saving their lives.

They were unsure of what to do. Their commander was dead, and it seemed the only one who could use the fabled weapon to its true potential was a tiny yordle. They brought her back to Noxus and explained their dilemma. Noxus was a place in which the strong rose to the top, regardless of who they were. However, not all were to accepting of other species in some aspects. Niomi would have to prove herself to truly be accepted here. She was up for the challenge.

To prove her immense strength to Noxus, she was thrown into the fleshing arena, against soldiers and beasts alike. Initially nervous, the yordle felt more confident and strong as she tore through the competition. Everyone was in awe, certainly shocked something this small could combat many twice her size. With her new found weapon, she was able to beat anything in her path. The longer she used it, the clearer his voice became. The ax liked to be called Axel, and he knew he was in the right hands to bring Noxus to greatness.

Eventually Niomi had fought enough, and the fleshing had to be called off before the yordle took out some of the highest ranking commanders in Noxus, and even Draven himself.

It was decided she was worthy enough to wield the weapon she retrieved, as well as stay in Noxus. Her aggressiveness and brute strength was welcomed here, and she was happy to find a place to call a new home, with a new friend by her side.

Eventually she was given the honor to lead the group of Noxian soliders that she had first found, and work alongside the likes of Swain and Darius himself, to bring Noxus to greatness.

 

_** Prove Your Worth ** _

 

_****_ ****

“I got it, I got it!!!” The small yordle said as she slipped from the crack in the cave, a long ax in hand. The group of soldiers cheered loudly, their commander cutting them all off.

                “Yordle traveler, you have our thanks.” He said as he approached the yordle and yanked the ax, quite aggressively from her grip.

                “Y-your welcome Sir…” She said nervously, watching the other Noxian soliders slowly approach him, all glancing over to the tiny yordle on occasion.

                “Private Vexal, come here.” The commander barked.

                “Y-yes sir, commander sir.” He said as he dashed forward.

                “Let’s test out this weapon, shall we?” The Commander said with the raise of an eyebrow. Niomi and the other soldiers gasped as the man swung the axe right at the private’s chest. They all seemed to gasp even louder, as the fabled weapon didn’t even leave a dent in the man’s armor.

                The commander gritted his teeth, swinging the ax harder and harder, the man he was targeting, flinching each time, but letting out a sigh of relief as the ax still didn’t actually harm him.

                “Are you kidding me? We’ve been searching for weeks for this damn weapon and gone through so much shit to get here, only to find out it’s a damn dud???” The commander hollered and spat profanities and reached for his own ax.

                The private swallowed hard. “S-sir, maybe you’re not using it right…think rationally! Sir!”

                The commander disregarded his soldier’s words, taking his own axe and slicing right across his armor, continuously hacking against the defenseless soldier, until his armor was in pieces and stained with his blood.

                Niomi was shaking, and as the commander moved from the motionless body, she skipped over to the Noxian solider and gripped his gloved hand.       

                “Stay with me!” She pleaded, not knowing the man long but feeling sadness for his fate.

                The man gave her a weak smile from behind his battered helmet. “No harm…done…I’m just not…strong enough for Noxus…”

                “You can’t die! Prove that you are! Please!” The yordle begged him.

                The man coughed up blood. “I don’t think I can…” He said, grabbing at her hair, his hand shaking.             

                Niomi’s eyes watered as she tried comforting the solider, tearing a chunk of his cape off and using it to try and soak up blood from a wound on his chest. She was scared, she had never seen a person in such a state, and wanted to help.

                “Foolish efforts yordle, he can only help himself now. The strong survive in Noxus, the weak just take up space!”

                “Don’t worry about me kid, I’ll be fine…” The solider said with a smile, before his head tilted to the side, his gaze unblinking.              

                Niomi gritted her teeth as she closed his eyes for him. “Rest easy solider….” she said quietly, as she stood.

                The commander let out a sinister laugh. “You think you are so noble, RAT! You may have gotten that weapon but it turns out all this time it was a fluke! That I endured so much shit to get to! All you goons driving me insane! You should all die you feeble scum!”

                The soldiers flinched as the commander sinisterly approached them, a sadistic grin stretching across his face.

                “Let’s just take him out!” one said

                “We can’t, we will all surely be killed regardless if word gets out!” another responded.

                “I don’t even have my axe!”

                “I’m still out of my armor!”

                “We are going to die…..”

                Niomi gritted her teeth. She could hear over and over again her name being called. But who was it? None of these soldiers had known her prior, and it almost sounded as if it was in her mind.

                She snapped back to reality when the commander raised his axe to attack and unarmored solider. She left the side of the deceased man and in one swift motion picked up the ax she had retrieved from the crack in the cave wall. Thinking quickly she slid under the legs of the commander, deflecting the blow from his ax with the one she picked up. Everyone was stunned by this display.

                “H-how. HOW IS IT THAT YOU CAN WEILD THE WEAPON EFFECTIVLY BUT NOT I?” the commander screamed.

                Niomi’s ears flattened. “I-I don’t know sir, and I am sorry…I’m sorry that you can’t. I just wanted to help…”

                “Well RAT, it seems your “help” has only been a hindrance! Along with the likes of my squad! This mission was a total waste of time!” He hissed. “I can’t take this treatment anymore! I deserve such better respect! I didn’t do all that I did to be stuck in charge with a batch of brain dead bumbling morons for weeks on end to find a dinky, rusty old ax that doesn’t work!”

                Niomi’s gritted her teeth. “I won’t let you hurt these men. They are so much stronger than you, not letting themselves be driven mad over power that’s not their own.”

                “You know nothing about what cowardice is you little bratty fluff ball, I can tell you are afraid, look at you shake! You can do nothing to save these men and they can do nothing to save themselves.”

                “W-watch me!” Niomi yelped, trying to swing her ax, tripping over her own feet.

                The commander laughed. “Pah! What a joke, I’ll kill you first!” He said as he lunged at the yordle.

                “You little rat! Meet your end and---“

                An audible breath escaped Niomi’s lungs. Her hands trembled as she gripped on her ax. She felt sweat tripped down her back as she gazed into the glazed over eyes of the commander.

                She had impaled him right through the stomach with the bottom end of her ax. She fell her stomach turn as she saw the end stick out of his back. She looked back into his eyes. They were damp, as tears spilled from them. A trickle of blood spilled from his slightly ajar mouth.

                “I was….wrong….” he sputtered.

                “You’re still alive…” Niomi gasped.

                “I’m from Noxus. I don’t quit easily.” He sneered.

                “You deserve that ax, kiddo.” The commander coughed again. “I truly am weak. I mean I lost to a yordle.”

                “I’m sorry…”

                “Don’t be. Just…end it fast.”

                “No I…”

                “End it.”              

                Niomi winced as she twisted the ax inside the man’s gut, as he let out a cry of pain.

                Her grip tightened and her palms grew sweaty. She kept twisted until he stopped hollering. Then she yanked it out, the man crumbling as he fell to the floor.

                The soldiers around her slowly walked over. One knelt down to her level and smiled. “Oh my gods…you saved us.”

                “We have to tell someone in the higher ups about this.” Another said. “As embarrassing as that sounds…we have to be honest…”

                “She must be the only one who can use that ax, like some sorta “I was the last one to touch it!” kinda deal,” another added.

                Niomi blinked slowly. “You should all at least try that before we jump to that conclusion.”

                The men all nodded, some not wanting to believe a yordle was the true weilder of this fabled weapon. But as it seemed, she was the only one. Some of the men couldn’t even lift it.

                “Yeah….we have to tell Darius…”

                “Who’s that?” Niomi asked.

                “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”


	2. Madeline, The Living Quill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lore, as well as a tale of Madeline, the Living Quill. Madeline is a human Noxian mage, who in her downtime was a reporter, and is now tasked with writing and keeping transcripts of important Noxian meetings.

_**Lore** _

                Many outsiders have come to believe the faction of Noxus is a cruel, harsh environment who beheads everyone who shows the slightest sign of weakness. However, showing weakness doesn’t always mean one is truly weak, they could turn around and snap the ax of the one attempting to behead them in a single flick of the wrist.

                Many were proud to be from Noxus, those living within its walls saw it as a great place where they were able to prove themselves. With every faction there are flaws, no one is truly perfect.

                But to one young fiery haired Noxian, as a child everything was perfect.  She grew up in a well off aristocratic family, with a house name she now has forgotten. She was well educated, and learning how to write at a very young age. She adored writing, picking up her quill early each morning and writing stories of splendor into the late afternoon.

                Her parents were always impressed and proud of their young daughter, doting on her every day. She showed great promise for her family, and was likely to make a big impact on carrying the family name. But one day, tragedy struck.

                A raging fire broke out on the street of Noxus where the little quill lived, and while she was saved being noticed by a rather compassionate Noxian solider who happened to be walking through, her parents passed in the blaze. Fortunately knowing the risk if the fire spread, it was quickly put out by the rest of the soldiers.

                Many lives were lost, of course, many saying due to the fact these people were not strong enough. Madeline the young Quill however, was told by the solider to say she saved herself, or they both could get in trouble. The girl pouted, stating she could not lie, but knew with the sternness of this larger man’s voice she had to just this once.

                While the solider himself wanted to raise the child he saved, he knew it was not possible at that time. He however did vow to watch over her to assure she was safe while she stayed in an orphanage in Noxus, visiting frequently and kept an eye on her when she wandered out on the streets.

                The little quill did her best to continue practicing her writing she had learned from her parents. However while in the orphanage she was teased for being so invested in a “rich person” thing. People began to catch on her parents were held in high regard in Noxus, and bullied the young girl relentlessly. They began to take advantage of her openness on what happened to her parents, and told her that they were probably killed on purpose and she probably should have died with them. They burned the little paper she had and spilled her ink all over her bed.

                She couldn’t bear it anymore and fled, finding herself once again in the arms of the solider who saved her. He couldn’t stand it himself any longer, and began to train the young girl in another important skill, self-defense.

                While training, the little Quill and the solider discovered something about Madeline that she herself didn’t know. She had magic power.

                She hadn’t remembered where she had gotten this power…had her parents given it to her? Most commonly magic power was either hereditary or learned, and all the quill had learned up to this point was writing. But her skill was very…connected to this concept. She could manipulate ink to her will, and control feathered quills to attack her opponenets, as well float with ease when dogging attacks from her trainer.

                The Noxian solider was relieved. Maybe this child could defend herself, she just needed someone’s help to reach her full potential. He was going to be that someone, and he and his wife, having no children of their own, raised the orphan. But not before discovering a strange mark on her back.

                While the wife was bathing the child, she noted a strange tattoo like mark on her back. It was unlike something she had ever seen, and it didn’t come off. It was eventually assumed that whatever this mark was, it had something to do with her powers as well. Her new guardians became worried for her, and did their best to keep it a secret.

                The little quill continued to write, expanding her skill by writing down what her adoptive parents said, going out and “interviewing” locals, and so on. She found herself having difficulty remembering things so this writing was one way to help her remember.

                Eventually she became an age where she could take on a job. She found herself in the shoes of “The Living Quill” a journalist who interviewed your everyday ordinary Noxian citizen to the likes of the soldiers in high command. She even risked it all to get an interview from the Black Rose, but pitched that article out of fear. She wanted Noxus to look good in a sense, and wanted it to be seen as a faction that wasn’t always gloom and doom and “bad”. She was a skilled writer, and many citizens enjoyed reading her articles.

                Word spread of this “Living Quill” up to the high command. Her skill was coveted by record keepers, and she was eventually requested to become one herself. She agreed to the task, and now sits as an important figure, documenting important meetings of the High Council word for word.

                However, with any person who writes about others, she has had to report some of the negatives. Some have attempted on her life, thinking she’s nothing but a wimpy writer hiding behind a pen. However these assassins soon discover the living Quill is a force to be reckoned with, and that their last breath is one choking on black ink…..

_ **An Interview with Death** _

                “Mom, Dad, I’m back!” I exclaimed, pushing the door to home open.

                “Welcome back dear,” my mother said, as she stirred dinner in a pot.

                “There’s my little quill!” my father exclaimed as he took off his helmet, giving me a tight squeeze.

                “I interviewed someone in your platoon today dad, he had a few things to say about you.”

                “Oh really? What was that?”

                “Only good things~”

                My father chuckled. “That’s a relief,” he said with a sigh, ruffling my hair.

                “Well get washed up, dinner is soon. I managed to heat up some water today so you can have a warm bath!”

                “Wow mom! Thanks!” I exclaimed as I bounded to the bathroom.

                I smiled as I slipped into the tub. These two…may have not been my birth parents…but they were just as good. I couldn’t have asked for a better replacement….even though my true parents will never be fully replaced.

                I hummed softly as I picked up some of the papers from the interview I had today. I chuckled as I read the line where the solider I interviewed joked about my adoptive father. The solider didn’t know the man he mimicked was my father, but did mention the two were friends. Not many people knew that I had been adopted by them. It started as a secret and always stayed as one.

                I continued to skim the paper, using my quill to scratch out and edit some lines. Unfortunately I eventually dipped my quill into too much ink, and a blob dripped from the feather and into my bath.

                “Oh great, I came in a mess and now I’m going to finish even messier!” I huffed trying to push the ink away.

                Suddenly I felt a quake and I dropped the whole article into my tub.

                “Oh no!” I yelped, slipping out of the tub. The water was now filled with ink and parchment.

                “Are you alright?” I heard my father knocking on the door. “Did you feel that sweetheart?”

                “Y-yeah I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.” I replied.

                “Alright, dinners almost ready…I’m going to check to see what that racket was.”

                “Okay!” I said, pulling my ruined paper from the tub.

                I sighed as I threw on my bathrobe. I felt bad. I really had wanted to include a perspective of the Noxian military from a simple solider, and now all I had for my article was words from esteemed generals and such.

                This wasn’t uncommon, I lost a lot of my works from time to time. When I was very young others even destroyed it. I had grown somewhat used to it.

                As I stacked up the damp papers and peered into the tub, I began to feel a slight stinging pain on my back. I tried to shrug it off. “Well, I guess that’s the last time I edit in the bathtub, you’d think I would have learned that by now…” I said out loud.

                I felt uneasy when my adoptive mother didn’t respond. Maybe she went outside with my adoptive father to inspect the damage. I stood, shaking slightly, as the mark on my back stung more.

                “Why is it so cold…?” I huffed as a chill shot down my spine.

                “ _I wonder…_ ” an echoing voice whispered.

                I nearly knocked over the tub as I jumped back. “Who’s there?”

                “ _Do not be afraid child, I am only hear to talk.”_

                “Hey I’m not a kid! Despite my voice and size, I am 25!”

                “ _Hmph. You are still young, and naïve_.” The voice hissed.

                “I may be young but I’ve seen enough in this lifetime…and I am learning more and more…” I huffed. The mark on my back began to sting even more, and as I looked over my shoulder it appeared to be glowing through my thin bathrobe.

                _“Maybe so dear, I am still calling you child.”_

                “Show yourself!” I growled, lifting my hand. A spiral of ink flowed from my finger tips and a handful of quills shot up from the floor and hovered behind my head.

                _“Well aren’t you feisty. Very well. It is only polite that I reveal myself to you.”_

From a mist that had begun to appear in the room, a cloaked figure appeared. I can vividly describe him. Death.

                “I have…heard stories of a being like you…a lich, a singer of death, you are Karthus!”

                _“Smart child…and you probably are begging to know why I am here---“_

“I just HAVE to get an interview from you!!”

                _“I beg your pardon?”_

“You were a Noxian once right? Granted you lived in the slums of Noxus and were pretty poor you still lived here. That is true correct? I mean I only want the truth.

                _“Now hold on child—“_

_“_ OH right, I should probably drop my defenses.” I said as I let the ink evaporate and the quills all spill onto the floor. I bent back over to pick one up, and yanked out some blank parchment that I had resting under the bucket in the bathroom.

                The lich seemed speechless. _“You want. To interview me?”_

                “Why not? It’s not every day one can say they got to interview death! Or something like that.”

                _“Hm. Fine. But let me do the talking before you ask questions.”_

“Of course Mr. Karthus…or do you prefer the term Deathsinger?”

                The Lich narrowed his glowing eyes and grabbed my chin with boney fingers. _“You do miss your real parents, do you not?”_

                “Of course….” I said, blinking quickly as I began to scribble word for word of what Karthus said.

_“It would have been so much more convenient if you died alongside them in those flames. You would have all been together.”_

                “I suppose….” I said, continuing to write.

_“You should have died there.”_

                “But I didn’t” I began to shake as I wrote, unsure why I was even documenting this. The lich’s fingernails sunk into my skin and I felt my mark burn as if it had ignited in flames.

                _“You would have been with them. Child you should have embraced it!”_

                “C-clearly it wasn’t my time! I was saved before the flames even tickled my skin!”

_“It was wrong, otherworldly as to why you lived. I bet even the Kindred spirit hunts you down each day waiting to strike.”_

The quill I was writing with snapped in two. The paper dropped to the floor. “You’re lying.” I said, beginning to feel a surge of energy flow around me.

_“What makes you say that child?”_

                “I’m a reporter, an interviewer. I know when someone I’m interviewing is stretching the truth. And I don’t publish those stories, ever.”      

                The lich glared as the wave of green light around her was reflected, the mark on her back glowing intensely.

                _“That blasted mark…that’s what’s protecting you…”_ He hissed.

                “I always thought that was my reason for my magic skill.” I said out loud.

                _“That too I suppose,”_ he replied. “Regardless you are an unlucky soul. With that mark you can never be free.”

                “I don’t equate death to freedom like you do Karthus…not yet anyhow. I still have a purpose here, tell the world of Runeterra that Noxus and its people are truly great.”

_“Do you really think you can do that all in your lifetime child?”_

                “Maybe I cannot…but I am sure to inspire others to carry on my cause.”

                The lich was silent.

                “Alright. Now where were we? Ah yes! I want a real story from you Death Singer. Where shall we begin?”


End file.
